You know how it is when you’re totally convinced that it’s just another uneventful day and then wham! you bump into something and your life is changed forever. And I mean forever.
So after devoting time reading and blogging two entries, I had to drag myself out of bed because I can no longer ignore my grumbling stomach. I was thinking oatmeal because I’m not exactly the most devoted cook in the morning. Plus I’m not exactly keen on reheating leftover food from the Chinese new year “party” last night. Too much effort for lazy old me. So I opened the fridge after mouthing a silent prayer that I’d find some surprise food there fit for breakfast and more exciting than oatmeal. Hmmm. Tons of veggies Evert grabbed from the grocery because he thought they were cheap. My brother and I really like to pretend we eat healthy. Then there was the wine left from the new year’s eve party, not the Chinese new year but the Jan 1 party. I really should throw it out. Wrinkled blueberries. They got crinkly after that first time they got thawed. They had looked lonely since then. Miracle Whip. Oh wait, we have roasted chicken from last night. Can I dip it in Miracle Whip? Mmm. No, thanks. Not in the mood for cold chicken. That’s when I saw the leftover pizza neatly stacked on the big blue plate covered with my fave swirly red plate. Who says you can’t have leftover pizza for breakfast?
So cold pizza and milk for breakfast. It’s like the biggest discovery I’ve had since that time I found out I’ve been tying my shoelaces wrong. You can have junk food for breakfast because sometimes you have to show your tummy who’s boss. And you can’t do worse than cold pizza and milk. I’m pretty sure that in some parallel universe, it’s the breakfast of champions.